


we lost the summer

by kittykais



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, I Tried, M/M, chia is once again devastated because of a song, hi chia is back with another oneshot lol, im kidding its kinda good oops, kind of, nostalgic, stream we lost the summer, theyre both whipped, this was supposed to be pretty but in reality its a Hot Mess™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykais/pseuds/kittykais
Summary: But he’s beginning to tire, so he turns a corner quickly and….immediately crashes into a very solid body. A small hand wraps around Jisung’s wrist, keeping him up so the both of them don’t fall to the ground on their asses. The stranger is tall, taller than Jisung, with a straight nose and cat-like eyes. His shoulders are encompassed in a leather jacket, black ripped jeans on his legs, showing off very nice thighs.OR: a minsung we lost the summer oneshot that's fairly ambiguous and was written at either midnight or in my computer science class :DSTARRING: a confused han jisung and a lee minho who apparantly looks Very Good in leather jacketsFEATURING: ryujin and seals i think
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	we lost the summer

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm back woot woot !!!! cries high school is kicking my ass but what is new uwu 
> 
> anyways this was supposed to be much longer but i still have writers block and i lost motivation sighs

_ We lost the summer _

Han Jisung. Twenty three. Lawyer (ew) Cheesecake enthusiast. Has been stuck in a lingo since he got out of college, working at a well known firm in Canada. Spent the entire summer wasting away at his firm, thinking of all the possibilities that could have possibly happened. Born in New York. Tried to escape to Canada. Escaped to San Francisco for a day. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. Fought with his best friend before he caught the nearest flight to San Francisco. 

October 1st, 2025. 

It’s an odd concept, summer. In his days of education (god, Jisung sounds so  _ old _ ), summer was a break free, a semblance of a rest that never lasted past a day because  _ parents _ . 

Han Jisung needs a break. He really does. Which is why, after fighting with his best friend Felix, he had decided to fly to San Francisco immediately, ignoring the piles of work and countless emails left at home. (Home? Is that home? His tiny apartment in Canada, littered with clothes and trash? His parents’ house in New York, where he’s spent his whole life but never really felt at _home_?  
That’s the thing. Jisung doesn’t know. He doesn’t-he doesn’t have a home, he doesn’t fit in anywhere, and that’s why he’s run away again. Because he doesn’t fit in, as cliche as the thought may be. Jisung banishes it from his mind. 

His phone is at the hotel, securely strapped to the small overnight bag he had packed. He’s not staying for long. Not long at all. 

\---

Jisung is running. He’s in the fair streets of San Francisco and he’s  _ running _ , quickly, to who knows where. There are people giving him strange looks, but he overlooks them, turning a corner. There are buildings all around him, covering him from all sides, but he isn't intimidated. The buildings feel like they’re shielding him, protecting him from outside. Here, running amongst complete and utter strangers like this, Jisung feels safe. 

But he’s beginning to tire, so he turns a corner quickly and….immediately crashes into a  _ very solid _ body. A small hand wraps around Jisung’s wrist, keeping him up so the both of them don’t fall to the ground on their asses. The stranger is tall, taller than Jisung, with a straight nose and cat-like eyes. His shoulders are encompassed in a leather jacket, black ripped jeans on his legs, showing off very _ nice _ thighs. 

Jisung blushes, stumbling backwards a few steps to steady himself. The stranger is looking at him curiously, eyes searching Jisung’s face, running over his eyes to his cheeks to his lips. Jisung’s shys away from his gaze, blushing in embarrassment and looking at his feet (adorned in platform converse of course, just to make him look that much taller ). 

The stranger looks at him for a second, Jisung shivering slightly under his gaze. It's something he's never experienced before, standing under a beautiful stranger, shivering slightly in the San Francisco heat. Vulnerable. He feels vulnerable, more than he’s ever felt before. It’s odd, really, how someone he doesn’t know makes him feel so  _ strongly _ . But of course, that is part of the reason. Strangers are always odd concepts, people a life or two away from you, intersecting but never staying for long, hushed whispers and hurried apologizes on the bus. 

This stranger smiles suddenly, Jisung looking up in surprise. The smile is blinding, something straight out of a magazine, and for a moment, a split second, Jisung wonders if this stranger is here for the same reason as him- to run away. 

It’s a fun idea to entertain, but not easy to believe, so Jisung banishes it. Even if the stranger was here for that purpose...he has no right, no right to ponder about this man's fate. 

"Minho. My name is Minho." The stranger, Lee Minho presumably, smiles, but it isn't an actual smile no, it's more of a slight upturn of the lips.

Jisung smiles shyly, encompassing the others hand with his own (it's so  _ tiny _ ) and shaking it firmly. "Jisung". Minho laughs, giggles spewing from his pretty lips. Jisung frowns, wondering what he did wrong to make someone laugh so hard. Then he realizes that he  _ did  _ nearly bowl this random person over. Jisung winces, erasing the memory from his mind. Begone, thy foul memory, you shall be no more. 

Jisung then realizes that he should probably do  _ something _ in order to apologize to Minho properly. "Would you- would you like to go to a coffee shop with me?" He asks, flinching when his voice cracks and turns into a squeak at the end. But luckily for him, Minho laughs softly, nodding as the answer to Jisungs question. Jisung lets out a quick sigh of relief, biting his lip and looking around. He…..doesn't know the city well at all, unfortunately.

Jisung turns to Minho, a desperate look in his eyes. “I...have no idea where I’m going.” He admits, flushing more ( _ why _ must he blush so easily?). Minho grins at him, grabbing his hand and  _ tugging _ . Jisung gasps, not expecting to be yanked down the road, but he quickly stabilizes, running after Minho so he doesn't fall flat on his face. "Slow down, where are we going?" Jisung pants, holding on to the others hand tightly. Minho doesn't respond, just laughs and pulls him into a building. 

Immediately, Jisung is hit with sounds and smells from every direction. There's the hustle and bustle of people around him, businesspeople on the phone in crisp suits. There are teens in thin shorts and t-shirts, holding their drinks tightly to their chests. In the middle of all of this commotion, at the front of the shop is where it all stems from. There's a large marble counter, perfectly pristine despite the amount of business they have today. Possibly every day. Jisung admires that, it takes a lot of effort to keep a cafe counter  _ that _ tidy. Maybe he's being weird. Maybe he shouldn't be staring at a counter with this much seriousness in his eyes. And maybe he should pay more attention to Minho because he-  _ oh my.  _

And once again, Jisung is dragged forward by a laughing Minho, who smirks at him out of the corner of his eye. Jisung rolls his eyes at the ground, smile pulling onto his face nonetheless. Straightening up, he listens to Minho's order, the words rolling off his tongue seamlessly. The worker (Ryujin, her name tag says) nods along to Minho's order, smiling brightly at him when he finishes. None of them wait for Jisung to order however, Minho once again takes hold of Jisung and pulls him away. When...when had he paid? Jisung looks back to see Ryujin smirking at the both of them, holding a credit card in between her pretty long, thin fingers. 

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, anything to get him out of the mess he’s found himself in, but Minho, of course, doesn’t let him, pushing him down into the booth in front of him, smiling widely. His smile is so pretty. Jisung could stare at it all day, which is a weird thought because  _ oh my god he just met this guy like...five minutes ago what the fuck. _ He chooses not to think about it, because thinking about it would open up a whole other range of possibilities that he does  _ not _ want to think about right now. Or ever. 

It’s far too confusing for his own good. 

Minho looks at him curiously, scrutinizing eyes glazing over him. Jisung feels exposed, vulnerable in front of the other. He shivers slightly, a cold breeze wafting through the door as someone (a college student) walks in, hand in hand with their friend. Jisung is suddenly overcome with an incomprehensible emotion, something indescribable, something he just can’t seem to shake away. Minho is still looking at him, an odd look on his face. He looks….searching. 

They don’t talk. They don’t move at all actually, just looking at each other and thinking. Ironic, because that’s the one thing that Jisung didn’t want to do on this trip. Is it a trip, actually, if he just came here for one day, just to run away from his house in Canada. It seems more like a brief escape from reality. 

After a minute, after a second, after an hour, maybe even, Ryunjin comes back. She places a plate of cheesecake in front of him, and a placed iced tea. In front of Minho she places a brown muffin and green iced tea. Jisung wonders how either of them knew his...passion for cheesecake. He doesn’t even have his phone with him today. Jisung wonders if he should have brought it with him, if only for some reassurance that this might not be all in his head. 

Minho gestures to the plate in front of him, smile tugging on his lips. But this time, it might not be a smile. He looks so much more coy now, eyes sharper and more intuitive. “Go on,” Minho taps the table lightly. “Eat.”  
Jisung’s eyes glaze over for a moment, caught up in the brief second when their eyes met. Minho’s eyes are so _beautiful_. He snaps out of his reverie when Minho picks up the brown muffin (it looks to be coffee flavored, but one cannot be too sure) and takes a delicate bite out of it, eyes still trained on Jisung’s. 

And so he eats. 

_ Oh.  _

The first bite feels like heaven, texture sugary sweet, smooth on his tongue. Jisung can hear music playing in the cafe, and wonders why he didn’t hear anything before. _We lost the summer_ , the boys say. They sound sad. Jisung’s sad too. He isn’t really sure where his summer went. Jisung points at the air, vaguely around the speakers. “Which song is this?”  
Minho trails his eyes up at Jisung’s hand, looking at where he’s pointing. A smile embraces his lips and he giggles. “We lost the summer by TXT. It’s kind of a hit right now. Top of the charts.” Jisung hums, tapping his fingers to the rhythm. Minho does as well, and Jisung can’t help but notice how much smaller his hands are than his own. 

_ We lost the summer _ . 

Jisung can’t get it out of his head. 

What is happening to him, oh god. 

Minho is peering at him, Jisung realizes, belatedly. “Are you okay?” His mouth says, but Jisung can’t hear, instead hit by the same feeling once again. 

Jisung frowns and sips a bit of his tea. The coldness refreshes him and brings him out of...whatever that was. “Yeah, I’m fine. Perfectly fine. What were you saying?” Minho smiles at him, tapping the sides of his glass cutely. It makes Jisung melt a little, a warm smile appearing on his lips. 

And then they talk. 

They discuss who they are, where they’re from (Jisung discovers that Minho is a freelance writer, with three novels under his name already, despite being so young.) (Another thing Jisung learns is that Lee Minho is twenty five years old but has the personality traits of an elderly cat dad.) (Another thing that Jisung finds out is that somehow, all of Lee Minho’s personality traits combine into one devastatingly beautiful human being, both on the inside and out.)  
(That was so cheesy, Jisung hopes he never thinks again.)

Of course, this is a discussion, so Minho learns things about him. Quite a few things. Lee Minho learns that Han Jisung, above all, is a cheesecake enthusiast. Lee Minho also learns that Han Jisung’s favorite color is red and that he's from Canada. He learns that Jisung likes anime and is possibly ninety nine percent of TWICEs fanbase (Jisungs measly 399 followers on Twitter says otherwise, however). They talk and they talk some more, simply enjoying the sound of each other's voices and the weight they hold. Jisung can’t help but think about the fact that he's never going to hear this voice ever again after today. He banishes the thought from his head immediately. 

It's not a fun thing to think about, given that he only really has a day to get to know this random stranger that he (quite literally) crashed into. Jisung squeezes his fork a little tighter. Minho doesn't seem to notice, and if he does, no words are spoken. Jisung is grateful for that. He's not sure what he would do if Minho asked him. 

But just because Minho doesn't ask Jisung about his fork squeezing moment doesn't mean Minho doesn't ask him about anything else either. "How long are you staying?" Minho asks, sharp eyes trained on Jisungs face. Jisung flushes under his gaze, cheeks turning redder and redder as the seconds go by. He's so….

_ Sigh.  _

Jisung doesn't know how to explain it, not even to himself. Unnerving, maybe. But unnerving usually has a negative connotation, and Minho is anything but. 

“Only today.” Jisung whispers, voice barely there. He’s afraid to look up at Minho, not wanting to see the look on the other’s face. 

Minho, again, doesn’t say much. Doesn’t say anything at all, actually, on the matter. It seems he isn’t fazed by the increasingly diminishing time limit Jisung has on himself. That sounds depressing, Jisung thinks. Sounds as if he only has a short time left to live. 

Looking around the cafe he sits in, surrounded by the warm noises of people and the smell of warm coffee floating in the air, Jisung thinks that it might not be too far off. 

After all, has he really  _ lived _ in his life? Or has he just….existed, a mere object wandering about other people’s lives, trying to stay afloat. He’s managed so far, but after today...after today Jisung doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep the muse up for much longer. He’s going to crash, and he’s going to crash soon. But then again, that doesn’t sound too bad, now does it?

Does it  _ really _ ?

Minho’s looking at him with an odd look on his face. Jisung can’t read it. He doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that one bit. “What happened?” Jisung asks, staring right back at him. Minho shrugs, eyes boring into Jisung’s skull. 

“Nothing. You just seemed to be lost in thought.” 

Jisung flushes, eyes tracing the patterns on the wooden table they’re sitting at. He shrugs. “I was.” 

Minho hums, standing up and putting all of their dishes away without saying a word. Jisung doesn’t try to stop him. Minho comes back after a few minutes, Ryujin throws the both of them a cheeky week. Jisung’s thrown off guard, but Minho simply scoffs and flips her off. 

And then they’re outside, back in the chilly air of San Francisco. 

\---

It hits him after a few hours. Lee Minho is  _ gorgeous _ . He’s not wearing anything too fancy or anything, but the leather jacket suits him so well, paired with the ripped jeans and his casually styled, fringe brushing just above his eyes. Everything about him is so...teasing. Mysterious. 

Jisung giggles to himself, following Minho to wherever they’re going. Minho is the epitome of Tall, Dark, and Handsome ™ . Minho looks back, pout forming on his lips. “Why are you laughing?” Jisung grins at him, skipping up to the taller. 

“You’re Tall, Dark, and Handsome ™” He says, blinking up at him. No, he does not know where this sudden confidence came from. Minho flushes a tiny bit, pink littering his cheeks (which look very squishy) becoming a dusty pink. The color stands out against Minho’s black clothes and the paleness of his skin. 

“Where are you taking me?” Jisung asks. Half of him wants their destination to be a surprise and the other half of him wants to know every single detail at the same time. It’s exhilarating. Everything is exhilarating, from the wind around them to the smell of the air to the buildings around them, littered with new and old. 

Minho smiles and just taps Jisung’s shoulder lightly. “We’re going to get ice cream.”

Ice cream. 

That sounds….amazing. 

It’s kind of sad, but Jisung hasn’t had proper ice cream in years now. He’s never really had the time for it after college, always rushing quick snacks in between meetings and trying to drink water on the run. Run _ towards _ the law, not from it. 

The one good thing about being a lawyer is the puns he gets to make, arguably the  _ only _ reason to even consider being a lawyer. In Jisung’s very humble opinion of course. Though he’s biased. Law school was complete and utter hell. 

Minho leaves Jisung through the city of San Francisco, hopping on a cab that takes them through the beautiful maze of buildings that San Francisco seems to be. There’s so much in the city, a hustle bustle of people and noises coming at him from every direction. 

It’s also...kind of overwhelming. In a way. Jisung doesn’t think he’d be able to handle living here for long, unable to get used to the nonstop noise and sensations around him. 

They arrive at a….it’s not a building, so Jisung isn’t sure what to call it. A stall, maybe? It’s a tiny little rectangle of a thing, colorful images of ice cream and brownies decorating the front of it. On the top hangs a large sign, the words “The Baked Bear” laying painted across it. Jisung gasps, turning to look at Minho in excitement. He’s  _ always _ wanted to come here, having seen the parlour on his friends’ socials, pictures of it on the web. 

“Have you heard of this place?” Minho asks, turning to look back at Jisung. His lips are turned upwards into a boxy smile, stiffly comfortable. Jisung nods vigorously, grabbing hold of Minho’s wrist and pulling him in front of the entrance. Minho chuckles and allows himself to be dragged forward. 

The cashier smiles at them, a woman with longhair dyed a silvery green, the ends colorful. A nametag with bolded letters reading “YEJI” is stuck across her chest. “Hi, what can I get for you today?” Yeji asks, looking at the both of them warmly. Jisung squeals softly and orders, pointing to the various toppings he wants to have. 

In the back of his head, Jisung realizes they’re at Fisherman’s Wharf, the salty smell of the sea permeating the air. Jisung has never smelled anything like it. 

A few minutes later, Minho joins Jisung, carrying a huge cone of ice cream and licking it slowly. They walk along the street to Pier 39, where the boats are spread across them on the sparkling water. Jisung’s breath hitches as he leans on the railing, licking his ice cream idly, ignoring the way some of it melts and drips down the cone. 

It’s peaceful all of a sudden, both Minho and Jisung enjoying each other’s company and watching the boats sway slightly in the summer breeze. Here, the smell of the sea is even stronger, the water a short distance away. 

There are these floating wooden blocks on the water, and on top of them lie sea lions, resting comfortably in the sun. Jisung giggles softly, watching one tiny one roll around and try to get comfortable amidst its family. The other sea lions around it pay it no attention, continuing to doze on in the sun. It must be so warm there, the summer sun beating down on them from above and the warm wood under them. It makes Jisung want to curl up somewhere in the sun and rest. 

As Jisung looks on, he begins to see fewer boats and more sea lions. His ice cream is melting rapidly now, but Jisung continues to lick it at the same speed, uncaring of the mess it’s making. Slowly, he begins to zone out, eyes fluttering as he struggles to stay awake. It’s so nice here, so so nice. Jisung doesn’t want to go home. Jisung doesn’t want to go home. He  _ doesn’t _ . 

He wonders if he should tell Minho about why he’s here, in San Francisco. Actually wait. Holdup. Pause. Rewind. Why is he here? Is it just because he wanted a break? Or is it something else?  
Jisung chooses to let go of his thoughts now and just enjoy the time he has. Because he doesn’t have long. Minho taps Jisung’s shoulder, looking at him meaningfully. 

And off they go. 

\---

Minho ends up dropping all of his ice cream. Jisung can’t stop laughing, because it’s so  _ funny _ to see the other trip and fall, the towering ice cream scoops falling to the ground with a splat. The devastated look on Minho’s face makes it all the more entertaining, because he looks as if his dog just died. 

Or cats. Either one. Jisung’s going to have to ask him later. 

“I can’t believe that happened.” Minho pouts, reaching out for the dropped ice cream mournfully as Jisung cackles at him. 

“You just….dropped. Tripped over your own two feet and then dropped to the ground.” He grins. “It was very entertaining, you should have  _ seen _ the look on your face when you realized there was no saving your ice cream.” Minho whines, batting at Jisung’s shoulder cutely, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks far too adorable for someone dressed head to toe in black, towering over Jisung (only because of the platform combat boots he’s wearing). Jisung pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Minho, I’m sure your ice cream misses you very much.” Minho just glares at him playfully, pushing Jisung’s hand off of his shoulder before eyeing Jisung’s own cone. 

Oh no. 

Oh no no no he is  _ not _ going for Jisung’s ice cream. 

Jisung narrows his eyes at Minho, licking his ice cream definitely. “This”, he says, pointing to his cone. “Is mine. You do not get it.” Minho pouts at him again, plush lips enhanced by his movements. 

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” A higher, drawn out whine. Jisung slurps his ice cream. 

“No.”

“Jisungie, can I please please have some of your ice cream?” This is accompanied by Minho skipping in front of Jisung and batting his eyes prettily at him. 

Fuck. 

\---

Now here’s the thing. Objectively, Lee Minho is gorgeous. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Handsome. Whatever you want to call him. He’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye, sharp nose and dainty eyes and full lips. 

And Jisung? Well, you see, Jisung is Very Very, Very gay. He is even more susceptible to the charms of cute, pretty boys who wear leather jackets (leather jackets) and combat boots and ripped jeans. Which, therefore, by the transitive property of equality (actually, Jisung doesn’t remember anything about geometry, so it’s best to ignore him on that one), means that Jisung is going to hand over his half finished ice cream cone because otherwise that pout will be the only thing he’s going to think about for a good five months.

Which wouldn’t be that fun, no matter how beautiful Lee Minho or his face is. What a sad world Jisung lives in. 

Jisung rolls his eyes at him, and he can see that Minho knows he’s won. A large grin spreads along Minho’s face, hands (they’re so small? Who allowed this peak of devastation?) reaching out for what’s in Jisung’s hands. 

“Stop pouting at me, you menace.” Jisung says, handing over his ice cream with a soft grunt and an even softer smile on his face. The sound Minho makes when he receives the ice cream makes up for it, though, pink tongue flicking out to have a taste. Jisung walks in front of Minho and turns around, making him walk backwards so he can watch Minho. 

“How is it?” Jisung asks. 

Minho smiles at him. “It tastes  _ wonderful _ . Thank you.” Jisung grins, batting Minho’s hands away when the other tries to hand him back the cone.

“Keep it, keep it. Don’t worry, I’ve had my fill, it was a large cone anyways.” 

“Okay, your choice, Jisung. But don’t get mad at me when I finish it all.” 

Jisung scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going to do that.” And then he falls. Down. By tripping. Over his platform converse. Han Jisung is there….and then he  _ isn’t _ . How magical. 

Minho gasps, darting forward to try and catch Jisung before he hits the ground. Unfortunately for Jisung, Minho fails, hand reaching just a centimeter shy of Jisung’s own, letting him fall to the ground. 

Time seems to stop as Jisung bounces on the ground. He’s breathing heavily, eyes blinking, trying to refocus. It’s not working. Why is it not working? Is he okay?

“Jisung? Jisung are you okay? Hey, answer me, are you good? Did you hurt yourself? Jisung?” 

He can hear Minho’s voice calling out to him, can see the worried face above his own, ice cream cone nowhere in sight. Jisung’s breathing spikes, and then stays like that, heart beating exceedingly fast. And then it stops. All at once, it’s over. It’s over. Jisung shakes his head, blinking to clear his eyes. It works this time, vision refocusing. Everything and everyone is in clear HD now. 

Thankfully. 

Minho’s sitting down, worried look placed on his face. Jisung wonders what happened. The sun is slowly setting, the heat no longer blazing down on them. Jisung’s thankful, but also not, because after this he’s going to have to go back to the hotel, back to Canada, back to his normal lifestyle. 

“Come with me.” Minho says, and then drags Jisung to a smaller boardwalk, where they sit down and dangle their legs over the water. It ripples, the shiny blue tint sparkling under the setting sun. Jisung looks at Minho curiously.

“Talk.” Minho says, wrapping a hand around the end of his jacket. And so Jisung does. Jisung tells him about how he’s never really felt in place anywhere, he’s never fit in. Jisung tells him about the ways he’s wasted his time. And here, Minho interjects. 

“You haven’t wasted your time, you know.” 

_ No _ , Jisung does not know. Jisung tells him so, pouting slightly up at Minho. 

Minho chuckles. “All of the decisions you’ve made have led you here. You haven’t wasted your time, Jisung. You like being a lawyer don’t you?” Jisung nods. He...he may sound like he hates it but in reality? In reality, law has always been one of the things that have just  _ made sense _ . 

“It feels weird because you haven’t accepted some things in your life. You need to work out the bumps and wrinkles and whatnot.” Jisung doesn’t quite understand what he means, but...but he has an inkling. 

And that’s enough. 

Minho ends up telling him about himself too. About how he’s felt the same things Jisung has, about why he’s here, in San Francisco. (It’s because sometimes Minho likes to see where the wind takes him, and now he’s here. It’s an amazing place.) 

Minho’s still sort of a mystery to Jisung, but. But...he thinks he’ll be alright for now. 

And when Minho walks Jisung to his hotel room and hands him a slip of paper with a number on it and the words “text me” scrawled underneath, Jisung thinks that this was a summer spent worthwhile. And a night he’s never going to forget. 

  
  


_ We found each other.  _

**Author's Note:**

> how was it i hope it wasn't terrible
> 
> chia also needs a break LUCKILY WINTER BREAK IS COMING UP SOON SCREECH 
> 
> i say that i wrote this to we lost the summer/run away/ done for me but in reality i wrote most of it to my teachers scolding me about my assignments :')
> 
> ANYWAYS PSPLSPLSPSSS drop a comment cries i need validation -_- as always my twt is @mininnies come talk to me !!!! 
> 
> stay safe and i love you all :D


End file.
